


That Sexy Mechanic Look

by dragon_temeraire



Series: Car Sex [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mechanic Derek, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-High School, Sex on a Car, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 08:44:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Derek’s mostly convinced already. He has a hot boyfriend, an empty automotive shop, a dick that’s already half-hard, and not a lot to lose.





	That Sexy Mechanic Look

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this anon ask on tumblr: “what if tank tops make Stiles really horny some he actually make Derek wear one when Derek fucks him.”

“Give me another ten minutes, and I’ll be done here,” Derek says, rolling out from under the truck he’s working on.

Stiles nods, but he has that slightly absent look on his face that says he’s thinking about something else. Derek doesn’t take offense—Stiles rarely visits him at work, so when he does he tends to get easily distracted.

“Feel free to keep yourself occupied,” Derek says, because it’s past closing time and there’s no one else around for Stiles to talk to. He smiles when Stiles immediately turns and starts poking around in a toolbox, and knowing he won’t be bored, rolls back under the truck. 

When he reemerges, he finds Stiles playing with some calipers, concentrating entirely on the bolt he’s measuring. “Whoa,” he says, startling and nearly dropping it entirely when he catches sight of Derek. “See, this is why I don’t come here—you are _way_ too hot like this, it’s almost unbearable.”

Derek stares at him in disbelief, then pointedly looks down at himself. His white tank top is liberally smudged with oil and grease, his hands are dirty, and his hair is probably a total disaster by this point. He can feel a light sheen of sweat across his back and chest, and honestly feels about as unsexy as he can get.

“Seriously?” he has to ask, because Stiles likes to joke around, and Derek doesn’t always pick up on his sarcasm. “What could be attractive about _this_?”

“Literally everything,” Stiles says, biting his lip as his eyes sweep across Derek. He looks around furtively, then says low and intent, “I want you to fuck me, right here, right now.”

That’s one of the things that surprised Derek the most when he’d first started dating Stiles—his exceptionally high libido. He’s never pushy about it, though, just lets Derek know that he’s open to trying anything and that he’s ready to go whenever.

When Derek asked him about it—after they’d fucked three times in one night—Stiles had shrugged and said he was trying to make up for all the sex he’d missed out on in high school. Derek had found that a little hard to believe, honestly. Although he’d been two years ahead of Stiles and hadn’t seen him often, he’d never remembered him as being unattractive. But he’d apparently remained single the entirety of high school, and Derek was only the second person he’d ever dated.

And Derek certainly didn’t mind the frequent sex—Stiles was rather generous in bed, and had an amazing mouth that he put to use in the best ways.

“Is this an exhibition thing? Because no one else his here,” Derek says, pulling a rag out of his pocket and wiping his face. “I sent them home almost an hour ago.” Technically Derek’s dad owns the auto shop, but Derek’s been running it himself for more than a year now.

“No, this is a ‘you look super hot like that, so I want you to fuck me’ thing,” Stiles says, smirking a little. “So I’m glad no one else is here. It means I have a better chance of convincing you,” he adds.

And it’s true—Derek’s mostly convinced already. He has a hot boyfriend, an empty automotive shop, a dick that’s already half-hard, and not a lot to lose.

Stiles must sense that, because he grins and steps in close to give Derek a lingering kiss, hands dipping under the hem of his tank top to tease at his hips.

“You can take the pants off,” he murmurs against Derek’s lips, “but keep the shirt on.”

Derek opens his mouth, then decides not to question it. “I’m going to wash my hands, go pick the car you want to be fucked against,” he says, smirking a little at the way Stiles’ mouth drops open.

He scrubs up thoroughly, because he is _not_ opening Stiles up with motor oil on his hands. When he turns around he sees that Stiles has, of course, decided on the Camaro.

Derek likes to park it inside on slow days, because getting into a black car after it’s been sitting in the sun all day is _not_ his favorite. It figures Stiles would take advantage of that. As much as he loves his jeep, he’s always had a bit of a thing for Derek’s car.

He’s leaned up against the truck, giving Derek his sexiest look, back arched to emphasize the curve of his ass. It _works_ , and Derek feels his cock swelling in his jeans as he admires the pose.

He fits himself right up behind Stiles, grinding forward as his hands tease at the front of Stiles’ jeans, popping the button and easing the zipper down _slowly_.

When Stiles squirms against him, obviously impatient, Derek grins and relents, carefully pushing Stiles’ pants and boxers all the way down. With one hand he lightly strokes Stiles’ dick, the other he brings around to caress Stiles’ ass, fingers dipping lightly between the cheeks.

He figures he’ll just tease Stiles a little before he goes to find some lube, but when he presses a finger against Stiles’ hole it slips right in. “Stiles, are you already prepped?” he asks, inching his finger in deeper.

“Yeah,” Stiles says on a moan, rocking back when Derek curls that finger inside him. “I got off work early today, and figured I’d, you know, _get off_. So I was jerking it, three fingers in and thinking of you, when I realized it’d be much better to get fucked by you for real.” He rocks his hips back eagerly when Derek adds a second finger, thighs spreading as far as they can with his jeans still around his ankles.

“Did you come?” Derek asks.

“Uh,” Stiles says, twisting around to look at him in bewilderment.

Considering Derek is still holding his hard cock, he understands why he’s getting that expression. “When you were jerking off earlier,” he clarifies. “Did you come?”

“Nope,” Stiles says, making a soft sound when Derek curves his fingers just right. “I was pretty set on real-you being the one to fuck me. And I saw what time it was, figured you’d be here alone. So I slicked myself up a little more, put my clothes on, and drove over.”

Derek feels a little burst of pleasure at that—Stiles would rather put off his orgasm and wait for Derek, rather than have instant gratification. He and Stiles have only been dating for three months, and sometimes Derek wonders if he’s feeling too much, too soon.

“What would you have done if I’d turned you down?” Derek asks curiously, sliding another finger alongside the first two, and Stiles makes a pleased noise.

“I’d have climbed into the backseat of the Camaro and jerked off,” he says, looking over his shoulder to smirk at Derek. “Loudly.”

Derek doesn’t doubt that one bit.

He eases his fingers free, then tugs at his cock a few times before lining up. Stiles leans back into him, and Derek is just about to press inside when Stiles slaps his hand down against the trunk and says, “Wait, wait!”

Derek immediately sways sideways, hands loosening on Stiles’ hips, and waits to see what’s going on.

“This isn’t going to work,” Stiles huffs, turning around. “I can’t even _see_ the sexy mechanic look you’ve got going on, not while I’m bent over your car. We gotta figure something else out.”

Derek resists the urge to roll his eyes as Stiles pulls up his pants and looks around thoughtfully. “There’s a couch in the back office,” he offers, but knows Stiles won’t go for it as soon as he says it.

“We can have couch-sex at my apartment,” Stiles says, then brightens. “Oh, I know!” He carefully sits on the hood of the Camaro, then lays back, spreading his legs. “Fuck me here,” he says excitedly.

Derek can’t help wincing a little, thinking of his paint job, but he does appreciate Stiles’ enthusiasm. He gets Stiles to lift up enough that he can pull his jeans all the way off, then steps in close, settling Stiles’ legs over his hips.

Stiles hooks his ankles together and beams up at Derek. “Hot boyfriend _and_ hot car,” he says, one hand gently stroking the Camaro’s hood.

Derek does roll his eyes at that, but he can’t hide his smile. Stiles opens his mouth, clearly about to say something else, but Derek lines up then, teasing the head of his cock against Stiles’ entrance, and his words turn into an eager moan.

Derek rolls his hips in a slow circle to ease his way inside, then pushes forward in a long, smooth thrust. He lets out a shuddering breath, feeling Stiles’ legs clench around him, then starts to move.

Stiles’ position on the hood can’t be comfortable, and Derek doesn’t think either of them want something long and drawn-out right now, so he starts off at a fairly quick pace. Stiles makes a sound that never fails to ramp up Derek’s arousal, and tries to arch his hips up against Derek’s. He can’t quite manage, though, because the hood is too slippery.

So Derek bends forward, bracing his elbows on either side of Stiles, letting him cling tight to his shoulders as he fucks him in earnest.

One of Stiles’ hands drops down and slips under Derek’s tank top, skimming along Derek’s lower back before sliding down to cup Derek’s ass. The look of wonder on Stiles’ face as he feels Derek’s muscles tighten and relax makes him grin.

“You’re so amazing,” Stiles breathes, giving his ass a squeeze. It’s an awkward reach for him, but he doesn’t seem inclined to let go, either. “So good to me.”

Derek wants to say something, wants to tell Stiles that he deserves someone being good to him, wants him to know that he feels the same—but then Stiles is shuddering underneath him, hand disappearing from Derek’s shoulder to wedge between them instead.

He strokes himself off quickly, even as he does his best to pull Derek in tighter and harder, and Derek tries to keep up his pace. Stiles lets go of Derek’s ass, curling his hand around the back of his neck instead, and rolls his hips roughly against Derek’s, whispering _yes, yes, yes_ until his whole body jerks and he comes between them.

That’s far too hot for Derek to handle, and he buries his face against Stiles’ neck as he pounds into him desperately, thighs trembling, until his orgasm rushes over him. His hips stutter through the aftershocks as he pulses inside Stiles, and he slowly grinds to a halt, panting.

“See, that worked out pretty well,” Stiles says, managing to sound smug even though he’s breathing hard too.

“I agree,” Derek mumbles against his skin. Stiles had asked him out all those months ago, fully expecting Derek to turn him down, but Derek had never even considered that. And though Stiles sometimes seemed worried that Derek would regret his decision, those nights with Stiles curled up next to him on the couch, dozing off against his shoulder, made Derek happier than ever that he’d accepted. “I’m glad you talked me into it,” he says, lifting his head to look at Stiles.

Stiles makes a pleased noise, and gently cards his fingers through Derek’s hair. The hood can’t be comfortable, especially not with Derek’s weight pushing him down, but he seems content to stay there, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips and Derek’s cock still deep inside him.

“Stick with me,” he says, grinning up at Derek, “and you’ll always benefit from my good ideas.”

“Sounds like a good enough reason to me,” Derek says with a smile, leaning in to softly kiss him. “I’m convinced.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
